Cohesion
by Lady Drama
Summary: AU Ptolemy's Gate. What would have happen had Nathaniel survived the explosion at the Glass Palace? Waking up to find two spirits in his head definitely wasn't what he anticipated.
1. Chapter One Bartimaeus

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy

**Summary:** AU ending of Ptolemy's Gate. What would have happen had Nathaniel survived the explosion at the Glass Palace? Waking up to find two spirits in his head definitely wasn't what he anticipated.

**

* * *

**

#1 – Bartimaeus

As the smoke cleared, I lifted the rubble of what had formerly been the Glass Palace off a rather delicate part of Nathaniel's anatomy, hence putting his future generations in my debt. His own debt had already grown to a size far greater than Nouda's bloated belly. The fool had mispronounced one of the most crucial parts of the Words of Dismissal, leaving me helplessly tied to the earth as the spirits of Gladstone's staff made their joyful (and explosive) escape from the prison in which they had spent the worse part of a century. _(1)_

_(1) By the way, I strongly suspect that they weren't quite as badly off as their earlier moans had indicated. I swear I saw a pack of cards in a grinning marid's hand._

But even in my dazed and disorientated state, I was battle-ready! _(2)_

_(2) Or as close to it as is possible when you have a meagre four limbs, three of which are utterly useless and bloodied. How the human race has survived this long, I'll never understand. _

Being trapped in Nathaniel's body wasn't quite as bad as it could have been. Alright, he still had an incredible amount of earwax lodged firmly in his right ear but our union had saved us from the worst effects of the Staff's full prowess. Nathaniel's body had acted as armour for my essence, while the strength I lent him allowed him to cling to life. _(3)_

_(3) Well, maybe the enchantments Gladstone had put on the Staff to ensure that whoever broke it didn't die in the process helped. Just a tiny bit. But mostly, it was just my essence holding us up. _

I poked around in his mind, hoping for some clues on how to move his unconscious body to a safer location. Nathaniel was dreaming of an older woman, sitting next to Gladstone's statue in a garden and sketching. I shook a metaphorical head at the sheer lack of focus in the children of the modern world. Really, this was no time for wet dreams.

I crept in a little further, entering into the thoughts that he had previously hidden from me. The boy had wasted a great deal of brain space on Jane Farrar, Jessica Whitwell and numerous other creatures whose bodies now lay scattered across London. But beyond that lay the virtual goldmine I sought. All the spells, enchantments, curses and counter-curses that he had memorized over the years lay in a few neatly wrapped up cells. Knowledge of thousands of years of human civilization was just a few tendrils of thought away. _(4)_

_(4) For so many Great Centuries, they had surprisingly little to show by way of actual achievement. It appeared they had spent far more time feuding than establishing anything of actual value._

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing indeed. Nathaniel's knowledge could prove invaluable to me sometime in the currently hazy future. The counter-curses could prove invaluable if I encountered a harsh master in my next Summoning. _(5)_

_(5) It's surprising, I know, but despite my incredible wit and talent, my masters do sometimes see fit to punish me. Then again, if their vision is anywhere near as terrible as the boy's had been when I first took control of him, it would be telling. They are obviously incapable of seeing my sheer intelligence._

Some people might believe that I was being exceedingly foolish in leisurely exploring Nathaniel's mind while some dangerous enemy spirits were still wandering loose. Those people would be exceedingly foolish. A good soldier knows when to shut up, play dead and let other people handle the work. _(6)_

_(6) Not that I was ever a good soldier. Or a good anything, really. I was always utterly brilliant._

Now that Nouda had been defeated, the other spirits would behave like headless chickens and flee in different directions, from where they would undoubtedly be caught and rendered headless literally. A morale boost always guarantees an exceptional rise in productivity and even the lacklustre crowd I had seen earlier would be sufficient to deal with them, as long as they fought only one spirit at a time. But since the possibility of two marids running together was too ridiculous to even contemplate, there was no danger of that. Two such powerful creatures rarely get along well. To hammer the final nail in their spiritual coffin, the higher spirits are rather arrogant and have a tendency to underestimate the opponents who kill them.

This was the result that I had anticipated and now believed fulfilled. Unfortunately, Nathaniel's luck simply isn't as good as mine and it was his horrific karma that landed us into a mess of proportions so gigantic that our collective mind boggled.

Just as I had been about to reach out and etch Nathaniel's memories of painstakingly learnt counter-curses into my own, a voice called out. It was calm, powerful and filled with enough menace to make the hair on the sleeping boy's neck stand up in dread.

"Bartimaeus," said Nouda, his menacing tone echoing in the boy's cranium.


	2. Chapter Two Nathaniel

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy.

**Summary:** AU ending of Ptolemy's Gate. What would have happen had Nathaniel survived the explosion at the Glass Palace? Waking up to find two spirits in his head definitely wasn't what he anticipated.

* * *

_#2 - Nathaniel_

As he slept, he floated. Memories of his childhood – of Ms. Lutyens's kindness, Mrs. Underwood's cheer, his brutal swimming instructor, the tutor who had taught him geography, history and numerous other subjects, of the room where he had once lived – all ran before his eyes, passing away before he could focus on them. And then his mind settled on an image of Kitty Jones. The inner beauty she glowed with was almost blinding but somehow gentle…

_Oh for Ptolemy's sake, this is not the time for your adolescent fantasies, boy! _

Nathaniel's brow furrowed as he heard the voice echoing through his brain. It was harsh but felt oddly familiar.

_Oddly familiar? The girl who once tried to kill you gets a deafening orchestra heavy on the violins and I get 'oddly familiar'? Thanks a lot, bud._

It all came back to him in a rush. Makepeace had been a traitor who had attempted to overthrow the government by inviting a demon to take residence in his body –

_Haven't we spoken about swear words being inappropriate for young children? Even Nouda deserves to be called a spirit._

Nathaniel ignored him as his mind continued to race – but Makepeace's plan had gone badly awry when the demons took control of their master's bodies instead and went on rampage through the streets of London.

_Spirits!_

But he had saved the day, he remembered, with a mixture of pride and relief. He had stopped Nouda with the aid of Gladstone's Staff. He had proved himself greater than any magician before him. Kitty and the other commoners were safe. That was all that really mattered.

_Spiffing. But you might want to open your eyes and look up, Nat._

With great difficulty, Nathaniel forced his reluctant eyelids open. His head throbbed as he took in the scene before him.

"Why is there rubble on my face?"

_Oops. I keep forgetting which end you see from._

He could barely bite back a shudder as his hand involuntarily lifted and casually brushed away a heavy piece of rubble as though it were made of cotton instead of concrete.

_Yeah, you're welcome. There's no need to overwhelm me with your gratitude._

Nathaniel blinked to clear away the blurs before his eyes and slowly attempted to rise, ignoring the stabbing pains shooting up his chest at the smallest hint of motion.

_Ouch! Will you just lie down before you faint again? Remember I have to share your body and I don't want to see any more wet dreams._

"Wet dreams?" he spluttered in shock.

Just then, a familiar face peered down at them with anxiety written all over its features.

"Are you alright, sir?" asked Ms. Piper.

"Yes, yes," said Nathaniel, hoping to establish some semblance of dignity and control.

"Oh. For a second there I thought you were delirious and mumbling about…"

"_Can you just get him medical attention already? I really need to get out of this stinking body and back to the Other Place as soon as possible!"_

"Nice to see you too, Bartimaeus. I see you're as cheerful as ever," said Kitty drily, hobbling over the remains of the Glass Palace towards them with the aid of a walking-stick.

The djinni attempted to wink but Nathaniel exerted every ounce of control he possessed to stop him. The result was a strange tic that made Piper look graver and Kitty laugh out loud.

"Ms. Piper, why don't you get someone here to lift them?"

The other woman nodded and left immediately, shouting at someone to call a car there as soon as possible.

"You defeated Nouda," she said, an almost admiring look in her eyes.

Immediately, Nathaniel's heart sang and his injuries didn't seem quite as severe as before. But behind the loud laughter of the djinn in his head, he thought he could detect something else. A cold feeling stole over him and he turned his head away from her.

"Nathaniel?"

Bartimaeus was laughing even louder now but there was an almost desperate edge to his hysteria. It sounded like the cry of a lunatic about to be hanged. Bartimaeus was hiding something.

_You have an overactive imagination and terrible analogies._

In a flash, the cold had disappeared and he wondered whether he had simply imagined it.

"Nathaniel?" said Kitty again, looking alarmed, "Are you alright?"

She turned around and scowled. "Where is that bloody ambulance?"

Ms. Piper broke off a conversation she was having with a burly man and said reassuringly, "It's almost here. Just another minute."

"Another minute might be too late," snapped Kitty, "Who's going to carry him into it?"

Ms. Piper patted the burly man on his back and said, "This is Samuel. He's a commoner but he's agreed to do the job. I'm afraid we just don't have enough magicians and imps to handle everything."

A sullen look had settled on the man's face at the word 'commoner'. It deepened as Ms. Piper mentioned magicians and imps.

Nathaniel felt a small jolt of alarm at the hostile expression in the man's eyes. He tried to speak but his throat was so parched and dry that no sound came out.

However, Kitty had also correctly interpreted the look in the man's eyes and said shortly, "Get someone else."

Ms. Piper blinked. "Is there a problem, Ms. Jones?"

Before Kitty could reply, Nathaniel saw the man's face turn openly hostile. He let out a small, almost inaudible cry of warning. The man barreled into Ms. Piper and would undoubtedly have injured her gravely had it not been for the imp in her pocket, who quickly threw up a small shield between his mistress and the commoner.

"I hate you!" screamed the man, "My family died today and it's your fault! Your kind don't give a damn about anyone other than your –"

His furious tirade was abruptly cut off by Ms. Piper's imp and he fell to the ground, unconscious. Ms. Piper looked stunned at his outburst and Kitty's face was somber.

"Take him to a hospital," she said quietly.

"What? He deserves the Tower at the very least for attempting to harm a Ministry officer …"

Ms. Piper's speech withered under Nathaniel and Kitty's combined glares.

"It's thinking like that that made him angry," said Kitty.

"What would you have us do? Embrace all angry dissenters?"

"No. But at least listen to the reason behind that dissent."

Nathaniel heard the distant wail of an ambulance siren. Evidently, one of the smaller public hospitals on the outskirts of town had survived the attack. He briefly wondered whether this was how commoners felt when they were gravely injured and waiting for an ambulance that was probably ferrying a magician to a private hospital for the treatment of a common cold.

His eyes began to lose focus once again and he could feel his consciousness slipping away. He was aware of the djinni in his head saying something but unable to decipher his words. Kitty's voice, part panic–part alarm rang through his head. A pair of rough hands grabbed his shoulders, causing blinding pain to flare in his injured arm. The world went dark for a second and the next time his eyes opened, all he could see was the sterile white of the ambulance. A warm hand was holding onto his and a muted voice was issuing instructions. Nathaniel felt the tip of a needle puncture his skin and waited for unconsciousness to envelope him.

Instead, the strange sensation that he had felt earlier returned with greater force than before. He almost gasped aloud at the icy feeling coursing through his veins. He was vaguely aware of Bartimaeus muttering Arabic curses in his head. He let out a loud groan as the chill spread all over his body. Someone, perhaps a nurse, spun around on metallic heels that cracked against the floor. A woman's voice shouted something incomprehensible.

Nathaniel heard Bartimaeus repeat something over and over again. He attempted to listen but the harder he tried the fuzzier the djinn's voice became. He pushed against the cold with all the determination he could muster and finally caught the word echoing through his head.

_Nouda. _


	3. Chapter Three Bartimaeus

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy_

**Summary**: _AU ending of Ptolemy's Gate. What would have happen had Nathaniel survived the explosion at the Glass Palace? Waking up to find two spirits in his head definitely wasn't what he anticipated._

* * *

**#3 Bartimaeus**

Typical of the kid, really. The stage was perfectly set for melodrama when I told him about Nouda and instead of letting out a suitably blood curling scream, he fainted.

I winced a little at the force with which Nouda was pounding on the skull we currently shared. In the time since Nouda's first appearance, I had formed several theories about his reappearance in Nathaniel's head. (_1)_

_(1) Of which six were poems, including a ballad, blank verse, haiku and heavy metal song. Battles make me feel poetic. It's probably a side-effect of having chronicled so many._

It appeared that a part of Nouda's essence had fused with Nathaniel's body when it was blasted apart by the legendary Staff that was _supposed_ to destroy it. _(2)_

_(2)Shoddy artefacts can be so unreliable. And Gladstone's insufferable spirits had the audacity to criticize my walls back in Prague. Just goes on to show: Barking dogs … etc._

So now, we were a merry party indeed, trapped inside Nathaniel's body by circumstances beyond our control. I was restraining Nouda for as long as I could. If the ferocious being consumed Nathaniel's brain, he would leave us both stranded on Earth for eternity. A lifetime on this stinking human land was more than what my essence could bear to even contemplate. The pain of the thought made me shiver.

Despite the fact that Nouda was ordinarily far stronger than me, I could subdue him inside Nathaniel's body with relative ease. _(3)_

_(3) As in Bed of Nails VS Bathtub of Acid relativity._

There were three main reasons for this: First, I knew Nathaniel's birth-name and he did not. This gave me a slight upper hand as it afforded me several advantages while dealing with the body we were both in. It also gave my own essence a bit of an extra boost. Unfortunately, this was only a temporary advantage as the canny old warrior would undoubtedly discover the secret soon enough in the boy's unprotected cranium. In which case, I would use the Second Reason. This one had to do with the time Nathaniel and I had spent together, as a single entity. I was now far more familiar than Nouda with his muscles and could access places in his head that the other spirit didn't even realise existed. This gave me a lot of excellent places to hide in case the Great One lost control and decided to simply burst open half of Nathaniel's skull. Of course, such an action would also result in his host's death and his immediate expulsion into the outside world, which he was still too weak to face. It was probably the only reason why Nouda had not taken this drastic step so far. The Third Reason was a little more… sticky.

It appeared that Nouda's explosive entry into Nathaniel's brain, combined with other slightly unusual circumstances such as my presence in the human's head, the energies pulsing from Gladstone's staff and the ripping apart of Nouda's own exceptionally powerful essence had led to our cohesion. Nathaniel, Nouda and I were now a single entity.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Just to clear it up, this is meant to be a drabble series. Chapters won't exceed 1000 words (maximum). Yes, I know that's streching the word 'drabble' a little but anyway *shrugs*


	4. Chapter Four Nathaniel

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy_

**Summary**: _AU ending of Ptolemy's Gate. What would have happen had Nathaniel survived the explosion at the Glass Palace? Waking up to find two spirits in his head definitely wasn't what he anticipated._

* * *

**#4 Nathaniel**

Nathaniel's body ached and shivered as it attempted to hold the alien substances battling within. His torso shook violently and uncontrollably as the two spirits fought for control. Even after Bartimaeus won the brief battle, he was granted no relief for Nouda immediately began to pulse against his consciousness, hoping that the human spirit would prove weaker than the demon. Nathaniel felt Bartimaeus' now familiar essence surround him in a protective layer. The pain dulled immediately as the djinn acted as a buffer for Nouda's attacks. Finally, he opened his eyes.

"Where am I?" thought Nathaniel. Images and sounds were floating past him, drifting serenely through the chaos. But whenever he tried to focus on a particular item, it grew hazy and dissolved into mist. The uncertainty and disorder of the place frightened the boy and he called urgently, "Bartimaeus!"

The grinning djinn appeared at once before him, in his favourite guise of Ptolemy.

"Bartimaeus, we must ..." he began but before he could speak further, the djinn's guise changed to one which Nathaniel had seen him infrequently don: a Minotaur. The great beast held a gleaming axe in his hand and raised it, preparing to strike him. Nathaniel tore his horrified gaze away from and attempted to run back, but there was nowhere to run to. All that he could see behind him were more faces, more words...

_Suddenly, he was in his old master's study, a small six year old boy leaning towards Underwood with a mixture of excitement and fear in his eyes._

_"Remember this," said Underwood softly, "Demons are very wicked. They will hurt you if they can. Do you understand this?" _

Suddenly, Nathaniel understood. Ignoring the approaching dijinn, he closed his eyes and opened them again. This time, however, he did not attempt to _see_ but merely to feel. Slowly, his own consciousness mingled with all that was around him. He was now a part of his own thoughts, at one with himself, whole. A rush of warmth spread through him and he realised why the spirits of the Other World were so delighted with their new bodies. The subtly organised pandemonium of the human brain, in which one inextricably linked to all, was so alike their own spirit. Bartimaeus was a free, untamed creature despite the harsh masters he had endured for centuries. A place such as this, where existence was more about acting than reacting, would suit him perfectly.

_Glad to see you see my side, Nat but I think we should get moving now._

The dry, sarcastic voice gladdened him far more than it should have but he would never admit that to the djinn.

_You don't need to. We're one anyway, so I can read your thoughts._

Nathaniel was sure that his face on the physical plane was suffused with blood.

_You just warmed up the cockles of my little heart, kid but..._

The rest of Bartimaeus' sentence was lost as a hurricane of cold swept across both of them, breaking the shield he had provided. A torrent of Roman swear-words slipped out of the djinn's mind and Nathaniel wondered what they meant. He was almost positive that the last one involved a Vestal Virgin and some...

_Run!_

Bartimaeus' energy swept Nathaniel's consciousness into a whirlwind chase through Nathaniel's mind with Nouda's cold aura relentlessly pursuing them. Occasionally, the boy would manage to cloud the path behind them by throwing pleasant memories at him but still, Nouda was undeterred. The great demon flooded Nathaniel's mind and brought with him glimpses of his bloody past as well as his thoughts. The boy could sense Nouda's anger towards Bartimaeus and him as it grew exponentially with each passing second. Finally, the djinn used up the last of his flagging energy to race with a sudden burst of speed and carried them away, past several inviting nooks and crannies, to a spot where the energies of Nathaniel's mind swirled with the maximum speed.

Nathaniel caught sight out Ms. Lutyen's face, her expression one of terror and mouth open as she let out a piercing scream. Then the vision faded away and was quickly replaced by Kitty's broken body, lying on the streets of London as flies buzzed above it and people dressed in fine suits walked by.

"What is this?" he whispered.

_Your fears. Or alternatively, the one place in your head that Nouda has not yet managed to tap into. Your birth-name is stored here as its discovery by your fellow magicians is one of your fears. However, it is that very name that serves as a password of sorts for entry into this place, if that makes any sense. _

"It doesn't," said Nathaniel curtly, "But we don't have time for explanations right now. We need a plan."

_Aren't you a precocious kid, thinking of something that smart! Golly gee, a plan! I'd never have thought of that myself, Nat._

"I've got it!"

_A tummy ache? You know, those can be pretty nasty and..._

"Cease your nonsensical talk, Bartimaeus!"

_You know, that sounded awfully like an order. Maybe if you're such an accomplished magician that you can toss instructions to Bartimaeus of Uruk, I should just leave you here with Nouda and go hide someplace else._

Nathaniel snorted. "You have nowhere else to go."

_It's the thought that counts!_

"Enough of this inanity. How long will it take us to reach Heddleham Hall?"

_Why are we popping in to visit our ex-best friend Simon Lovelace's death spot?_


End file.
